Note: This chapter contains references to religious sentiments. I do not claim complete expertise in these matters, and if any inaccuracies are present, please understand that my intention is never to offend or hurt anyone. I deeply respect all religions and beliefs.

•|ONE MONTH LATER |•

AUTHOR'S POV

It is often said that when life strikes with its harshest blows, when all else fails, the only place left to turn is upward. Perhaps it is instinct, perhaps desperation, or perhaps the last thread of hope everyone cling to when everything else slips away.

Yet not everyone believes, some dismiss the idea of a divine presence, they are certain this universe is not shaped by any divine hand, that it exists without a creator. And they are not wrong, no one has ever looked upon the Almighty with their own eyes.

But then there are those who believe He exists. That He listens, that He watches, that even silence can be an answer. For them, when life feels unbearable, they surrender their burdens to the one they believe holds the universe in His hands. No one can say for certain if this is truth or illusion, yet His name alone has become a shelter. In that word, people find courage to endure, the strength to stand again, the hope that tomorrow might be softer.

Whether He exists or not may remain unknown, but the hope His name brings is undeniable. And sometimes, hope itself is the only miracle strong enough to keep a heart alive.

“Please keep my Rudra safe,” she whispers as her fingers tremble slightly as she loops the thread around the jaali, knotting it. The sandstone cold beneath her palms, rough against the softness of her skin. She leans forward, pressing her forehead to it, closing her eyes, holding her tears in. Her dupatta slips over one cheek, sticking slightly to the dampness from her skin. Around her, the dargah moves quietly, a hum of people stepping softly, whispering their secrets, murmuring prayers.

“Dua bohot qeemti lagti hai,” (Prayer looks very precious.)

She blinks startled opening her eyes.

“Allah par bharosa rakho…” (Have faith in Allah)

She turns and sees the old Maulana beside her, his hands folded in front of him. He tilts his head slightly, noticing her tear streaked face and swollen eyes. “My husband… my Rudra, he’s hurt, his life is in danger.” She bites her lip, trying to swallow the tremor.

He blinks, his brow furrowing slightly.

Her hands tremble as she wipes at her cheeks, “I don’t even know where else to go anymore. I go to the church, the gurudwara… here, to the dargah. I fold my hands everywhere, beg everywhere. I pray everywhere now.” Her throat closes and she swallows hard, “Vo theek ho jayega na?” (He’ll be fine, right?)

His eyes soften, holding her silently for a moment.

“Bacche, jo dua dil se nikle, usse koi deewar, koi aasman rok nahi sakta. Allah ke nazdeek dua kabhi zaya nahi hoti.” (Child, a prayer that comes from the heart cannot be stopped by any wall or sky. In the eyes of Allah, a sincere prayer is never wasted) His gaze drops to the thread she tied, “Aur tumne to apne shauhar ke liye har mazaar, har ibadatgah mein sir jhukaya hai… aisi talab khuda kabhi khaali nahi lautata.” (And you have bowed your head at every shrine, at every place of worship, for your husband… such devotion, God never lets go unanswered) He gave her a small smile, “Bharosa rakho. Agar naseeb mein tumhara saath likha hai, to qudrat khud bhi tum dono ko alag karne ki himmat nahi karegi.” (Have faith. If being together is written in your destiny, then even nature itself will not have the courage to separate you both)

She exhales slowly, her shoulders sagging a little, letting herself lean against the jaali for support, feeling a fragile thread of hope settle in her chest.

•|At Aravika Healing Haven|•

“At what point will you understand? You can’t see him.” Avyaan exhales heavily, blocking the doorway to the ward.

Saanvi lowers her eyes, “Please, Avyaan. Just once. It’s been one month, I haven’t seen him even for a moment.”

“Avyaan,” Abhimaan, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, shifts his gaze from her to Avyaan, “Let her in.”

Avyaan doesn’t answer Abhimaan, his eyes stay on her, “You thought you could walk in whenever you wanted once he was shifted to Aravika, isn’t that what you counted on?”

Saanvi meets his gaze for a fleeting second before she turns away. Without another word, she walks away from there.

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She walks through the hospital hallway. Her eyes catch on the idol of Lord Ganesha placed in an alcove along the wall. The space around it is empty, tucked away from the rush of doctors and patients.

She stares at the idol. From the day she joined Aravika Healing Haven, she has avoided the idol of Ganesh, never once allowing herself to stop here. She always looked past it. But today, her feet falter.

She looks away quickly and pulls in a long, shaky breath, forcing herself forward. For days now, she has gone everywhere churches, dargahs, gurudwaras pleading with every Almighty she can think of even after being an atheist. Yet she has never come back here, not to the one she once called home, not to the one she had whispered her pain and secrets to as a child. Not since the day her only prayer went unanswered.

Her steps slow again. She stops, turns back, and walks toward the idol. Lord Ganesha sits calmly on the alcove surrounded by garlands, lights, and an offering of modaks.

“Don’t take him away from me,” she murmurs, “Please, not him. I finally found my solace. At least this time… don’t break my heart.”

Her tears spill faster, “Nineteen years ago, I begged you. I begged you to save my mumma but you didn’t listen. You took her away and now it’s happening again. This time it’s Rudra. And again, I’m begging you. Please, just this once… hold my trust, don’t let it break again.”

Her eyes shut tight and she cries openly, “I know I’m selfish, standing here only because I need something from you. I know I stayed away all these years, and maybe you’re angry with me too. If you are, I understand, I won’t come back again. But this one thing… just this once… please, don’t take him. Please save him. Don’t let anything happen to him.”

She folds her hands together, pressing her palms so hard they shake, her words fall into a whisper. “I won’t ask again. Not ever, just this. Please save him. I can’t live without him.”

From a distance, Adrika watches Saanvi crumble before the idol of Lord Ganesha. Her own vision blurs as tears gather, her lips parts in quiet disbelief. This is the same Saanvi who had always walked past without a glance, the same woman whose words about faith once carried nothing but bitterness. And now she stands here, breaking down before the very God she once turned away from. In that moment, Adrika realizes how life humbles even the strongest, how grief has the power to bend pride, and how pain can drive a person back to the very doors they once swore never to knock on again.

-----------------

“Ma’am,” Naina says softly, watching Saanvi scribble prescriptions at the reception desk with a blank expression, “at least have some lunch.”

“Tell Dr. Mittal to handle the rest of the patients.” Saanvi pushes the board into her hands without looking up.

Naina studies her for a moment, concern clouding her face, then leaves without another word.

That’s when Saanvi notices her father, he stops in front of her, his hand closing gently around hers.

“Saanvi,” Anubhav swallows, “what I’m going to say won’t be easy to hear. But you need to hear it.”

She meets his gaze with a flat, exhausted look, then exhales slowly. “What is it?”

Anubhav presses his lips together, “You need to leave India. Yashwant isn’t backing down, your life is hanging by a thread. And Rudra… even he wanted this. That’s why he sacrificed his life—”

“He’s alive,” Her voice snaps. She yanks her hand free and steps back, “Don’t you dare say that again, Dad.”

Anubhav shakes his head, “For now, Saanvi, you have to go. It’s the only way—”

“There it is again.” She lets out a bitter laugh, her eyes shining with disbelief. “You, deciding what’s best. Always your terms, always your family’s safety. And now I see exactly where I get that selfishness from.” She wipes her tears roughly. “Well, not this time. I’m not leaving him.”

“You’re not listening.” His voice rises, “You’re not helping him by staying here.”

“Maybe not. But do you really think I could walk away after everything I’ve done? He’s lying in that bed because of me, Dad. Because of my choices. And you expect me to go back and live as if none of it happened?” She stares at him, searching his face.

His composure cracks. “Fine. Yes, I’m selfish. And I don’t care what you think. You’re going back to New York. You need to give him up.”

“Give him up?” Her chest rises unevenly as she fights back sobs, “That man put his life between me and death without hesitation. He fought for me, protected me, even when all I gave him was my anger, my curses, my twisted words. He never walked away. And now you want me to abandon him while he’s fighting for his life?”

“Fighting?” His voice sharpens, rising with frustration. “The doctors said it clearly, he’s not responding, his body is shutting down, his will is slipping. He isn’t fighting, he’s already letting go. And when a man no longer wants to live, no doctor, no prayer, no thread tied to any wall can change that.” He exhales, “His condition is worsening by the day. Whether it’s tomorrow or the day after, you know what’s coming. You need to accept it and face reality before it destroys you too.”

“Why are you still not over Mumma?” The moment they leave her mouth, regret stings, but her pain pushes her forward. Anubhav's eyes widen at her audacity. “Even after she’s gone, you still carry her in you. Why? You could have moved on, found someone else—”

Anubhav’s face hardens instantly. “Don’t you ever speak about her like that.” He snaps, “You think this is the same? You think what you feel for him compares? No. Your situation is different. Mine is love, a love that doesn’t disappear just because she’s gone. So don’t you stand here and try to measure it against your guilt.”

“Exactly,” Her face crumples. “Just the way you love Mumma… I love Rudra.”

He stares at her in disbelief, “…This is nonsense. You’re guilty, that’s all this is. Don’t confuse it with love—”

“I do!” Her scream pierces the hallway, making heads turn, a handful of people pause mid step, “I love him. And I don’t care what tomorrow brings, or the day after. I’m not letting go of him. All I know is if his heart stops, mine will stop with it.”

Anubhav scoffs bitterly. “And what about us? Your family? You can’t see beyond him. You’re being selfish.”

By now, the shouting has drawn a small crowd. Adrika, Abhiraj, Abhimaan, and Avyaan approach with confusion etched across their faces.

“I don’t care!” Saanvi’s voice cracks as she glares at her father through tears. “I don’t care about you. I don’t care about anyone. All I care about is Rudra! If that makes me selfish, then let it be!” Her cries deepen, her shoulders shakes as she clutches her head, fingers tangled in her hair. “If I had been this selfish for him before, he wouldn’t be lying in that bed. I let my fear, my mistrust, everything else get in the way. And now he’s paying for it. But no matter what, I’m not leaving. I’ll stay with him.”

Frustration hardens in Anubhav’s face. He grips her wrist tightly. “Enough. You’re going back to New York. That’s final.” he drags her forward.

She thrashes against his hold, “Dad, please! Don’t do this. Don’t take me away from him. I can’t leave him like this!” She struggles against his hold, her eyes darts toward Abhiraj. Their gazes lock for a split second, his hand twitching as if to move but he doesn’t.

With a surge of strength, Saanvi wrenches free and runs, hurling herself into Abhiraj’s arms. The impact jolts him, forcing him back a step. She clings to him with every ounce of strength left in her, burying her face in his chest, his arms hovers uncertainly before freezing in the air.

“Maa once told me to run to both of you when it hurt… even if I couldn’t stand anymore. She said you’d catch me.” Her voice muffled against his chest as she sobs. “Please. I know I don’t deserve your help. But I can’t ask anyone else. Please don’t let them take me away from him.”

Adrika watches from the side, her expression softening, her head tilted ever so slightly, Abhiraj swallows, for a moment he doesn’t move, then he exhales and pulls her into his arms. She clings tighter.

“Saanvi, enough—” Anubhav strides forward, reaching for her again, but Abhiraj catches his wrist.

“Don’t,” Abhiraj says evenly.

“Mr. Singhania—”

“If it’s her safety you’re worried about, I’ll take responsibility,” Abhiraj cuts him off. “She’ll stay at my mansion. I’ll send people to collect her things from your house tonight. If she doesn’t want to leave, she won’t.”

“You don’t understand the risk—” Before Anubhav can argue again, Saanvi’s body slackens. Abhiraj catches her just in time, lowering her into a nearby chair as her chest heaves with shallow breaths.

“Saanvi!” Adrika drops beside her, panic flashing across her face.

Anubhav crouches in front of her, his hands tremble as he clutches hers. “Saanvi…”

“Avyaan, get Dr. Safiya—now!” Abhiraj orders. Avyaan glances at Saanvi then spins and rushes down the corridor.

“Rudra…” Saanvi chokes out, clutching her chest, tears pouring down her face.

“Saanvi, breathe, slow down,” Adrika urges, rubbing her back with steady circles.

She shakes her head violently. “Rudra… please…” The words are strangled, breaking apart in her sobs.

The click of shoes on the tile fills the hallway. Dr. Safiya rushes in with two nurses close behind. She crouches down at Saanvi’s side, “Saanvi, hold still. You’ll be fine, just hold still.” She readies a syringe, but Saanvi thrashes weakly, her panic making it impossible for the needle to find its place.

From the corner, Abhimaan, silent until now, swallows, watching her breaking down. He exhales sharply, “Rudra opened his eyes.”

Saanvi’s head jerks toward him, her teary eyes freezing on his face. For a moment she stops struggling, and in that stillness, Dr. Safiya seizes the chance to administer the injection.

Her body relaxes as the medication takes hold, her breathing slowly evening out. She sinks into drowsiness, her lashes fluttering shut, still whispering his name.

The others, Adrika, Abhiraj, Avyaan, who has returned and Anubhav all stare at Abhimaan in disbelief.

“Why did you lie?” Abhiraj asks, his brow furrowed.

Abhimaan holds their eyes, “Because in this moment, what she needed wasn’t reality, it was the will to breathe.”

--------------------

Saanvi sits on the edge of Rudra’s bed, her hands clutching his photo frame. She traces his face with her thumb, “Your friend lied to me,” she whispers. “He said you opened your eyes… and then, when I woke, he said it was a lie.” she hugs the frame closer. “When you wake up, make sure you punch him for me.”

Her eyes sweep the room, taking in every corner, every detail that is unmistakably his. “Come back, Rudra,” she murmurs, “Please… I’ll make you see how much I love you. I’ll cherish you, hold you close, and never let you go again. I swear.” She exhales shakily, letting a quiet, defeated sigh escape.

Rising, she moves to his cupboard. She opens it, taking in the neat rows of clothes, the way everything is perfectly arranged. In this one month, Adrika had prepared everything for the day Rudra would wake. When that moment comes, he would return to his room in the Singhania mansion, not the residence.

She lifts a maroon shirt from the hanger and presses it to her chest and memories rush back, he once wore this in the hospital just to impress her, knowing she likes maroon on him. Her eyes wander to a transparent glass box on the shelf. Inside, a few red roses remain, their petals fragile and falling.

She lifts the flower from the glass box, and suddenly almost all the remaining petals drift to the box. Something about it feels familiar, tugging at a memory she can’t quite place. Her eyes fall on the letter tucked inside the box. Carefully, she sets the flower back and lifts the envelope, placing the box gently back in the cupboard before opening it.

It’s her letter, the one she had written when she was ready to give her marriage a chance, the day everything fell apart. Her gaze flicks back to the flower and she realizes it’s the same bouquet she planned to give him that day.

“He still has it…” she whispers. The thought stuns her. She can’t understand how he kept it all this time with such care.

She closes the glass box and tries to push it back into the cupboard, but it won’t fit. Frowning, her fingers probe behind it and brush against something cold and smooth. She pulls out a cold, leather journal, Rudra’s journal, the very one she has rejected countless times.

Her fingers trace its cover gently, and a small, soft smile touches her lips. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she opens the clasp and turns the first page.

Daily journal [(day 1)]

My pearl,

I have very bad news for you, my love, I'm coming back into your life.

It's 11:30 at night and I'm writing this a day before I shock you with my presence tomorrow. Tomorrow when you see me, I know your eyes will hold anger and hurt. And you'll be right, I wounded the very soul I should have protected.

Sometimes my shame whispers that I should stay away, that letting you go would be the only noble thing left for me to do. You deserve someone far better than the mess Tam. But love has made me selfish, I cannot walk away, I cannot surrender you to the silence.

My heart refuses to unlearn you.

Maybe you will never read this letter, but still I will always write. Because waiting for you, hoping for you feels like the only prayer I know how to make. To wait is to love and I would rather wait forever than release you into a world where I no longer belong.

Do not mistake these letters for bargains or bribes for forgiveness. You once poured your heart into a letter for me and I failed to honor it the way I should have. That failure still lives in me. So now, as my atonement, I'll write to you every day. Because if I could not honor or your words then, the least I can do is give you mine now, pieces of my heart set down on paper, until the day you're ready to see me again.

The beast who will never stop chasing his beauty,

Rudra

A broken cry escapes her as her knees give way, and she sinks to the floor, clutching the journal tight against her chest.

“Rudra…”

Her gaze drifts back to the open page. She runs her fingers softly over the words. The ache inside her sharpens, her heart hammers with guilt that feels impossible to breathe through. She rubs her palm against her chest, trying to calm the stabbing pressure there, but it only grows heavier.

Shutting the journal, she forces herself to stand. Her legs feel unsteady, but she leaves his room and walks to her own. She opens her cupboard, sliding the journal onto the shelf before pulling out the drawer. Her fingers close around a small box. When she tips it open, a handful of pills spill into her palm.

Sweat beads at her forehead. Her breath comes fast and uneven as she stares at the pills, her vision blurs with tears. Slowly, almost against her own will, she raises her hand toward her lips.

“I’m here, it’s okay. Calm down.”

She stops.

“Scream, hit me, hate me if you need to… but don’t go reaching for something that’ll take you away from me.”

“You don’t have to fight alone, Pearl.”

Her grip weakens, the pills spill from her hand and scatter across the floor. She breaks into sobs, collapsing to her knees and wraps her arms around herself.

“You don’t need any of that. You just need someone to hold you right now. I’m here.”

“Rudra…” she gasps, bending forward until her cheek presses against the cold floor. “Please come back… break your promise. Just come back to me.” Tears streak down, soaking into the surface beneath her as she clutches her chest, crying as though her heart is tearing apart from the inside.

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